A Different Sort of Courage
by CreativeTypist
Summary: After seeing the direct effect of his actions lead to the demise of two of his dearest friends, Peter Pettigrew considers the different sort of bravery that dominates his decisions and how this has shaped his life.


A Different Sort of Courage

Summary:

After seeing the direct effect of his actions lead to the demise of two of his dearest friends, Peter Pettigrew considers the different sort of bravery that dominates his decisions and how this has shaped his life.

It is a little known fact that I stood in the bitter cold of that October night and watched through the window of a quaint little cottage in a quaint little village as two of my best friends were murdered. I could say that I was forced to submit, ordered to observe, required to stay and view the handiwork of my new master. But the truth is, I enjoyed every moment, the price of admission being their blood.

Of course, as I saw that night, the killing curse is far from bloody. But it is freeing, exhilarating, in a way which can hardly be described.

With the deaths of James and Lily, I found an escape from the foolish, stupid boy I had been, the one barely tolerated by all, the Peter defined by supposed hero worship of James and Sirius, the Peter who stuttered and stumbled and made himself the easiest target for ridicule. And I became a new Peter, one who was able to exact great change on the entire wizarding world. For my actions directly affected the course of history, though at the time I had no idea how great an impact I would have.

Of course, in the wake of their deaths I knew that the world (by which I mean Sirius Black) would disapprove of my decisions, even though it would seem that they had allowed for the extermination of Voldemort. So the new, powerful Peter concocted a plan, and exterminated that threat preemptively. Stupid Peter, indeed! With Sirius Black safely contained in Azkaban, I wondered why I had not been a bloody Ravenclaw!

In doing so though, I condemned myself to life as a rat. And what I have found is that the rodent life leaves much time for contemplation. How did I come to betray my friends? How did I become the Peter (Wormtail) I am today?

In all these years, the best answer I can come up with is bravery. I realize that this likely sounds absurd. It would seem quite the opposite, that my betrayal of Lily and James was one of pure, self-centered cowardice. But if there is one thing that must quickly be learned by mudbloods entering our world, it is that with magic, things are often not quite what they seem.

My life has been led in terms of a different sort of bravery.

_Peter Pettigrew, eleven years old, squat, plain, and altogether unappealing, approached the old stool atop which was perched an even older wizard's __hat. Although Peter tried hard to look brave, the stern voice of his mother, insisting Gryffindor was the o__nly house worth entering, echoed__ in his mind. The knocking of his knees betrayed his terror to all who looked closely._

_Fortunately for Peter, he was not the sort of boy who invited close scrutiny._

_Peter placed the hat atop his head, and braced himself for the worst._

_"Most unusual boy, most unusual," __mused__ the hat.__"Certainly not a __Ravenclaw__, then.__ You would never be able to get into the common room!"_

_"No sir," replied Peter, unsure whether he had just been insulted, and furthermore unsure whether he cared__, so desperate was he to get out of this place in the center of the room_

_"So very __Hufflepuff__ you seem, and yet something here hints that dear Helga would be most displeased with you. You shall bring about great change to our world boy, but it won't be to your benefit. It will however require immense courage, of a sort. I hope that you shall learn to use it wisely, in time. __GRYFFINDOR!"_

_Peter Pettigrew was m__o__st confused as he slipped off the hat and wandered over to his new table, where a swarm of intimidating older boys looked most unwelcoming. But __Remus__, whom Peter __had met on the train, gestured to an empty seat next to him, Peter happily obliged. To __Remus's__ left sat Lily Evans, and soon, James Potter slipped into the spot next to Peter. _

_"All the pretty girls are at this table, eh Peter?" asked James, elbowing Peter gently._

Many would tell you that I came to be in Gryffindor as a result of some grave error on the part of that ancient hat. But I know that the sorting hat makes no mistakes, and that Gryffindor was the only place for me. If anyone asked the Sorting Hat (not that they would ever bother to do so on my account), it could tell them the real truth. For contrary to popular belief, I was perhaps the bravest Marauder of all.

Seven years passed from the day I was deemed a Gryffindor, seven years in which I accomplished little worth mentioning. Of course I was a powerful wizard, an Animagus by fifteen, but beside James's charm, Remus's brilliance, and Sirius's rebellious good looks, I could only pale in comparison. But I loved them all, and when Lily Evans finally succumbed to James' charms, I loved her too.

_Peter Pettigrew, dressed in his finest dress robes, sheepishly wiped away a silent tear as he watched two of his dearest friends become husband and wife. How much he was happy for them, but he was jealous too. They had each other, Sirius and __Remus__ had the Order, and he? He was the same tagalong he had always been. With this attitude he approached the Dark Lord just two weeks later._

_Voldemort__ did for Peter what the marauders never bothered to. He made the __rodentlike__ man feel like so much more. Suddenly, he was important, he was vital, he was wanted. And although he would later blame his actions on cowardice, the truth was that he felt much more at home as a Death Eater than he ever did as a Marauder. _

_Of course, if Peter hadn't been so dim, perhaps he would not have fallen for the allure of Lord __Voldemort__. But here he found power__ and attention__, and this was all that Peter wanted._

For nearly a year, I served as the Dark Lord's spy, his greatest asset against the Order of the Phoenix. And anyone who says that being a Death Eater is an act of cowardice has never done it, for there is the constant threat of discovery, of torture, of death, of duty.

And soon, my duty came to the forefront of events.

_"Peter, we would be honored if you would serve as our Secret Keeper." Lily requested._

_Peter nearly choked on his biscuit. "Me?" he asked incredulously._

_"Of course Peter! You are one of my dearest friends" insisted James._

_But all Peter heard was the orders of his master._

_"I must have them. I must kill them. I must get them. And you, Peter, you must bring me to them." He had said._

_For a time, Peter's excuse was convenient. He was not the secret ke__eper, could not reveal their location__. But now, no such barriers existed. The Dark Lord would be so pleased! He would be so rewarded! He would be __Voldemort's__ most favored servant. (And James, Lily, and Baby Harry would be…but no. Peter knew he __musn't__ think of it like that).__ Besides, what had the happy family ever done for him? Ridiculed, embarrassed, outshined? Peter would show them- James Potter and his perfect life would get what was coming to them._

I agreed to be their secret keeper. I sat in their kitchen drinking tea and eating Lily's famous biscuits and laughing and joking with my friends. At the end of the evening, I grasped Lily's hands and promised her that everything would be all right in the end. I held Harry as he fell asleep, and told James just how beautiful a child was, how much he resembled his dear old Dad. And all the while, I knew that I would very shortly be signing their death order.

It was the bravest thing I have ever done. I could have whisked them away to hide, I could have refused to become the Secret Keeper, I could have saved them. But I did not- I was no coward.

And so they died, And I watched. And I relished.

Of course, the plan hadn't included the demise of Lord Voldemort, and the triumph of baby Harry Potter. I would love to absolve my sins, claiming that I had planned that turn of events all along. But the truth is, I have no idea how Lily Potter's son managed to defeat my master.

And so began my new life. And for years now, I have been Scabbers, awaiting the opportunity to show the world my bravery, so that all may know that I, Peter Pettigrew, was the truest Gryffindor of all.

And should my master ever return, I will be ready. After all, I have a reputation to uphold.

A/N: What a fascinating character! I hope I captured him well. I have a lot of projects in mind right now, and I hope you will keep an eye out for more of my writing. In the meantime, I would love it if you would review!


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